“Mother,” said Miriam one day to Ruth, “by what name shall we call our new friend?”
The question puzzled her, and she referred it to her husband.
“It does not seem fitting,” she said, “that we should give the name of a daughter of the Covenant to the beast, for though she is of kindly temper yet she is unclean.”
Seraiah thought awhile.
“You say truth, my wife. Let us call her Jael.”
“But why Jael?”
“Because the wife of Heber was of the unclean, for was she not of the house of the Kenite? Yet was she a friend of Israel, for she slew Sisera that was captain of the host of Jabin, King of Canaan.”
So thenceforward the creature went by the name of Jael.
It was not long before she justified her name by showing that she could be fierce on occasion.
A wayfarer, who described himself as a discharged soldier and a Moabite by birth, asked for shelter and food. Scanty as were the means of the fugitives, they did not grudge the stranger a share of their meal. They gave him their best, adding to their daily fare the special luxury of some dried grapes. As he complained of being footsore, Ruth applied some simple remedies to the blisters on his feet. Altogether he was treated not only as a welcome but even as an honoured guest. On his part he professed a fervent sympathy with the hopes and plans of his hosts. The next morning he started as if to continue his journey. But the cupidity of the wretch had been roused by the sight of the handsome earrings—almost the sole remaining relic of former affluence—which he had spied in his hostess’s ears. About an hour before noon, when he judged that the men would be still busy about their daily work, he crept back to the cave. Ruth was sitting [pg 133]by a fire nursing her babe. The jackal lay asleep in a corner; the girls were playing with the cubs on a sunny little plot of ground outside.